


M is for Mistake

by romanticalgirl



Category: Hornblower - C. S. Forester
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 20:58:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 4-18-09</p>
    </blockquote>





	M is for Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 4-18-09

He knows it is a mistake. How could he not when his heart pounds so ferociously, a warning far louder than any cannon fire. She kneels serenely atop the bed, pillows at her back and her body artfully arranged on the bed covering, hands floating out beside her, demure even in her nakedness.

His stump is loud against the polished floor and he sees her eyes stray down to the thick wood. He feels heat stain his flesh. It is clear in the greediness of her gaze that the stump and the angry ragged scar that holds him together are why he is here, why he has been invited.

“Undress.”

Her voice holds the same cool command Bush knows from others he has served under, and he obeys. There is no need to hurry. He knows they will not be disturbed, but he is trained in expediency and economy of movement. Her eyes move over scars and the silver traces of battle wounds hungrily.

“Take it off.” He sits at the edge of the bed and reaches down, only to be stopped by her light touch. “No.”

Bush doesn’t move until she brushes his hand aside, her own brusque and efficient touch undoing the buckles and leather straps. A flash of phantom pain courses through him as she sets the stump aside, sliding onto her knees between his legs. One hand splays on his thigh and the other cups the stump, her thumb rubbing carefully over the thick ridges of flesh.

He closes his eyes, biting back any hint of reaction. She laughs quietly against his knee, a sound somewhere between amused and aroused, strangely childlike. HE watches her, his hands braced on the bed behind him for support as she leans closer, her hands not moving though the pressure of them increases as she takes him between her lips, deep into the heat of her mouth.

**

Hornblower comes in with Brown, talking of the business of their day and Hornblower’s call to the Admiralty. He is more animated here in his own home than aboard ship, though it does not take much to make the difference. Brown diverts away as they reach the parlor, leaving Hornblower alone to greet them. He kisses Barbara’s cheek and moves to Bush, hand extended.

“Bush.” His handshake is warm, sincere and steady. “I had no idea you were coming from Sheerness. Quite a surprise.” 

“It was all Lady Barbara’s idea.” Bush nods in her direction. “She thought it had been too long.”

“And it has.” Hornblower offers something akin to a smile. “Come with me to my study and we’ll talk. You’ll excuse us, Barbara?”

“Of course.” She smiles coolly at Bush and nods. “Mr. Bush.”

He nods back and moves after Hornblower, noticing the easy way he changes his stride to match Bush’s. Hornblower clasps his hand on Bush’s shoulder. “I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.” 

“No, sir.”

“And Barbara kept you entertained?”

Bush doesn’t glance back, just stays in step. “Yes, sir.”


End file.
